


Convert

by INMH



Series: trope-bingo Fanfiction Fills 2017 (2nd Quarter) [7]
Category: The Order: 1886
Genre: Drama, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Game(s), Romance, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 09:19:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11529279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INMH/pseuds/INMH
Summary: Alastair comes to Grayson with a proposition.





	Convert

“It’s wrong.”  
  
“Says who?”  
  
“ _Everyone_.”  
  
Alastair was sitting far too close to him, and Grayson could feel his heart beating unnaturally fast.  
  
The younger knight was the picture of calm, one arm folded behind his back and a glass of something alcoholic in the hand of the other. Alcohol would go a long way in explaining this madcap request.  
  
“I’d never known you to be someone who followed the herd, Galahad. In any case, do you really think we’d be the first men in the Order to…” Alastair drew out that pause almost tauntingly, examining his glass. “…Share a bed?”  
  
Grayson swallowed thickly. Obviously that bit was true, there had been mutterings about Bedivere and the current Gawain’s predecessor- namely, how close they would stand to one another, one account mentioning how very _close_ their faces had been at one point- but mutterings were all that they’d been, because if they’d been anything _more_ than mutterings there would have been an investigation and potentially a trial before the council on charges of sodomy and sexual deviancy.  
  
“It needn’t be about love,” Alastair remarked, reaching out to circle his thumb over Grayson’s communicator, making the older Knight jerk in surprise. “If that’s what’s concerning you. It need only be a… Mutual venting of sexual frustration.”  
  
“That’s an awfully eloquent way of saying that you want my cock up your arse.”  
  
Alastair _grinned_ then, and it was a strangely predatory yet entrancing thing. It was rare to see such an unrestrained expression from him. “Amongst other things,” he said enigmatically, taking a sip from his glass.  
  
“You understand,” Grayson said, lowly, “That if we’re caught, we’ll be put through Hell. _I’ll_ be put through Hell; or do you think your father will react kindly to realizing that we’ve been- oh, how did you put it- _sharing a bed?_ ”  
  
“Then we don’t get caught,” Alastair smoothly responded, with a mild shrug. “Come now, Grayson, I’m not asking you to scream it from the rooftops.” Although, Grayson considered, wasn’t _screaming_ exactly what Alastair was planning for them to do? “Just every now and then, we get together and…” He raised his eyebrows pointedly. “Quiet and discreet; nobody needs to know.”  
  
“Nobody _can_ know,” Grayson corrected, and a shudder ran through him when he realized that he was actually, seriously contemplating this. “Nobody can ever know, Lucan, or we’re both royally fucked, and not in the way you’re planning.”  
  
Alastair let out a deep chuckle. “I can keep a secret better than I think you realize, Galahad. I’m very good at covering my tracks.” Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Grayson’s.  
  
Really, Grayson had known Alastair since he was quite young, and in all of that time he’d never known the other Knight to be so reckless. It wasn’t uncommon for members of their Order to seek out discreet company in the night, but regardless of where one’s preferences lay it was far safer to seek out a member of the opposite sex. Agreeing to let Alastair into his bed from time to time was a far riskier venture than he felt the younger man was giving it credit for.  
  
Still, Grayson tasted whiskey and something sweet on Alastair’s lips, and as badly as his sense of self-preservation was telling him to stay away, that the consequences of this venture would be severe, that it _meant_ something significant that he even enjoyed being kissed by a man, he was… Intrigued.  
  
(And terribly, terribly curious.)  
  
“Why not this,” Alastair murmured, mouth brushing Grayson’s cheek. “A trial-run, if you will: Spend the night with me, and make a decision about anything more than that tomorrow.”  
  
“You’re hoping to tempt me,” Grayson retorted.  
  
“Oh, I think I’ve done that already,” Alastair said, pressing another kiss to Grayson’s cheek before stepping back. “I’m looking to finalize it.” He downed the rest of the whiskey in his glass and sighed. “And again, Galahad, I’ll remind you: I’m not asking for marriage. Just a nice night every now and then.”  
  
Alastair moved for the door, and the question forced its way out before he could leave. “Why me?” Grayson asked, unable to keep a plaintive note of utter confusion from his voice. “There are plenty of other men, women as well, you could have asked this of. Why ask me?”  
  
Isi’s taunts about his age were not entirely untrue; Grayson was one of the older Knights. And while he maintained that his stamina and physical capacity for his job were undiminished, he was quite a bit older than Alastair, and there were younger bucks that the Knight Commander might have turned to for this- especially given how badly both parties would be destroyed if it ever came to light.  
  
He wondered if there was something Alastair wasn’t telling him.  
  
Alastair paused at the door, fingering the handle contemplatively. “Well,” He said, “Why does one prefer a gun to a knife, or tea to coffee? I prefer you because I prefer you. You’re a good man, you’re not likely to get loose-lipped about the arrangement, and I find you attractive.” He shrugged. “It’s nothing more complex than that.”  
  
“Simple enough,” Grayson echoed. “Alright, then.”  
  
The edge of Alastair’s lip quirked up. “You’ll find me later?”  
  
“I’ll _think_ on it,” Grayson hissed, and the younger Knight chuckled.  
  
“Of course, Galahad.” He looked Grayson in the eye. “You know where to find me.” Alastair left, and Grayson stared senselessly at the door in his wake.  
  
The whole endeavor was a bad idea. All it would take was one slip-up and they could both be stripped of their titles and banished from the Order. The Chancellor was not, by and large, a forgiving man, and the odds of him reacting any other way to finding two of his (male) Knights- one his son, no less- involved in something so sordid were slimmer than slim.  
  
Still…  
  
_No,_ Grayson thought. _No, no, no, no. This is a bad idea. I shouldn’t even be considering this._  
  
…Alastair’s company appealed in the same way Grayson’s appealed to him: He was discreet, he was a fine man in terms of character, and- well, bluntly- Alastair wasn’t hard to look at.  
  
Grayson was slipping. _How long has it been since I’ve been with anyone?_ He considered. _It’s not even a matter of romance, or anything as involved as that. We can end it if it becomes a problem, if it seems we might be discovered. It’s just sex._  
  
__Just sex.__  
  
Grayson took a breath.  
  
“Fuck.”  
  
[---]  
  
Alastair opened the door a moment or two after Grayson knocked.  
  
A small, restrained smile broke out over his face. “Grayson,” He drawled. “Good to see you.”  
  
Grayson leaned in and lowered his voice. “Your offer still stands? One night, and I can decide in the morning?”  
  
“Absolutely.” There was no mistaking it- Alastair looked like a cat with a family of mice trapped in a corner.  
  
Grayson’s eyes rolled shut, and he rubbed a hand over his face. “Alright then, one night to test your wares, and then I’ll make a decision tomorrow.”  
  
Alastair nodded and stepped aside, gesturing for Grayson to step into the room. The older Knight looked around cautiously, just in the event that anyone was watching. The hesitation he had after that was just stalling.  
  
“Coming?” Alastair must have seen the apprehension on his face, because the smile disappeared. “I don’t mean to ruin you, Gray,” He said softly. “Only to offer a bit of fun, if you want it.”  
  
__Fun_. _ Listening to Alastair D’Argyll lightly bantering about how he wants to have a bit of ‘fun’ was tantamount to a dog standing up on its hind-legs and asking, in perfect English, for a steak-bone. It didn’t happen; Alastair did not become the Knight Commander because he was fun-loving. None of them had become Knights because they enjoyed a good bit of fun.  
  
But then, maybe that was exactly why Alastair was offering.  
  
“Of course,” Grayson sighed, rolling his shoulders and stepping into the room. “Though, frankly, it’s been a while. You’ll need to take your time with me.” He meant it self-deprecatingly, but Alastair seemed to take it a little differently, judging from the smile that was reappearing on his lips.  
  
“Not a problem,” He said as he shut the door. “We have all night.”  
  
-End

**Author's Note:**

> Erm... This may get a sequel and/or additional scene at some point.
> 
> Because I am a sin.


End file.
